Imperfect
by Snapegirlkmf
Summary: This is the conversation that took place in Gold's shop between estranged Rumple and Belle during "Unconditional". Belle reveals her own dark secret and learns Rumple's true motivations. Companion piece to Unconditional. AU Heroes and Villains, Rumbelle.


**Imperfect**

**(AU companion to Unconditional)**

**because Rumple and Belle nagged me til I wrote this**

When Belle entered Gold's pawnshop a month after he and Henry had returned and the boy moved in with him and it had been revealed that Rumple and his grandson had saved Storybrooke from the trio of dark witches, she was unsure of the reception she would find. She had stayed away from her husband deliberately, figuring that she had driven him away before, and now he needed to make up his own mind whether or not to see her again. But as the days stretched into weeks, she feared the longer she waited to talk to him, the harder it would be. She was beginning to think he wished to never see her again, and suddenly she was terrified.

Terrified of never being able to rectify the mistakes she had made—mistakes she realized she had been making since the day she had walked out of the castle to get him some straw and made up her mind to not return . . .until she met Regina on the road and the queen had told her of the way she could break his curse, by True Love's Kiss, and become a heroine in her own eyes. And that indeed was her own deep dark wretched secret, that she had returned, not just because she loved him, but because she wanted to be the one who broke the darkest curse ever—and turned the Dark One back into the spinner again.

Her hero complex was her greatest weakness and her undoing.

Only she had never realized that until now.

She stepped into the shop, thinking that tinkling of that bell reminded her of happier times, and she smiled to see Henry industriously sweeping the floor. She was glad the boy was there, if only because his presence would mitigate Rumple's anger, for Rumple never liked to air his grievances among witnesses, not when it came to her. Unless that had changed too.

He looked up. "Hi."

"Hi, Henry. Is Rumple here?" she asked, through lips gone dry with anxiety.

"In the back room."

"I . . .I need to talk to him."

"Go ahead," he waved her towards it.

Belle walked around the counter to the back room and opened the door.

Rumple looked up. "Belle."

He still said her name with that soft burr.

"Rumple," she said, almost choking on his name.

She shut the door with her foot.

The man sitting behind the desk looked a little older than she recalled from a month and a week ago, there was a touch more gray in his hair and a few more lines around his eyes, but he was still a handsome looking man to her. But the light that was usually in his eyes when he saw her was dimmed, and he looked at her warily, as if he distrusted her, or that she was someone he used to know.

"Why are you here?" he demanded softly. "Come to see if I'm worth fighting for now that my curse has broken?" His tone was laced with bitterness.

"Don't—" she began.

"Don't what? Don't be angry? Don't act like I have a right to be angry? Oh, excuse me, dearie, I'm not supposed to play that role, am I? I'm supposed to be the penitent husband, the one who gets down on his knees and begs for your forgiveness because I'm always the wrong ways one, and you, dear wife, are the superhero who puts up with me," he declared sharply. "Did I get the script right?"

She paled. "No, I never said that—"

"No, you didn't say it—you _did_ it!" he hissed, his fingers tightening on the desk edge so hard they whitened. "You came after me with that gauntlet like it was a bloody token and you condemned me—judge, jury, and executioner—without letting me say two sentences in my defense."

"It led me to your greatest weakness—the thing you love most—at least I thought it did," she tried to explain.

"You thought. You thought _wrong_. In fact, you didn't think at all, now did you? You didn't pay attention to what I told you that day. I said _the gauntlet shows a person's greatest weakness, which almost always is the thing you love most._ Did I say _always_? Did I say _absolutely_? I did _not._ But you only heard, like so many others, what you wanted to hear. Not the truth, but what you wished was the truth."

"Rumple, you twist words—"

"Do I?" he spat, his eyes blazing. "No, _you_ twist what you hear! You don't _listen_. There is _only_ one absolute in magic. True Love—_unconditional_ True Love—breaks _all_ curses. My grandson proved that when he broke my curse, the curse _you_ couldn't break."

"Because you wouldn't let me!" she howled. "You were too afraid!"

"Yes, I was afraid! Then and now! But he succeeded and do you know why? Because _he_ loved me—_all_ of me!" He pressed a hand to his heart. "And that was all it took. I couldn't stop my curse from breaking then, even though I didn't wish him to, even though I thought I was cursed forever to be a beast and live in the darkness I and you had cast me into! It didn't matter. Because _he loved all of me, unconditionally._ Do you understand now?"

She nodded regretfully. "I wanted to save you. I wanted so much to be a hero . . ." she whispered, the words falling like acid from her lips.

He folded his arms over his chest like a schoolmaster giving a lecture to a wayward student. "And that, dearie, is why you failed. Because you wanted to save me, to change me, not for _me_, but to be the heroine in your own story."

"I did love you!"

"Yes, you loved me—the man inside the beast, but you didn't come back that day for me, did you?" he pointed out ruthlessly. "Let's be honest, like you wish," his voice was like hoar frost. "When I asked you that day, why you came back, you told me—_I wasn't going to, but something changed my mind._ And we both know what that was don't we? Regina told you how to break my curse . . .and you leaped at the chance to be a hero. Isn't that true?" His eyes pierced her.

She bowed her head. "Yes . . .it's true . . ."

"And that was why I could stop it," he said softly. "I pondered many times why that was so after you left . . .and yet I didn't want to believe that. I convinced myself it was my own doing, that my own fear stopped my curse from breaking. Because I needed my magic, you see, to find my son. I was afraid without it I would be nothing again—nothing save a coward, reviled, mocked, and spit on."

"I wouldn't have minded that man," she began, her voice trembling.

"No? That man couldn't have protected you, dearie, and you see, that was the whole reason I became what I was—to protect those I loved. _Not_ as you and all the other hypocrites in this Godforsaken town assume, because I wanted power. If _that_ was all I wanted, I would have become Zoso. And sold myself to the highest bidder and become the power behind the throne in a dozen and one kingdoms throughout the realm. I would have seen no need to make a deal with you, Belle, I would have simply _taken_ you. But I didn't, did I? You made a deal with me, to go with me forever. And then you left and broke it."

"You told me to go! You didn't want me."

"Yes, I told you to go. But why did you go? You could have defied me, stayed in the castle. But you decided to leave, to leave me—with an empty heart and a chipped cup."

"You threw me out!"

"No, you left! And you know damn well that's true."

"I was wrong. I was coming back. Even though you didn't think you were worthy of love, I was coming back to you." Her blue eyes were filled with tears.

"Why? Why were you coming back? To play the hero again, and save the poor trapped beast in the castle?" he sneered.

"No, because I loved you! Why don't you believe me?" she snapped, desperate.

"Why didn't _you_ believe _me_? I pledged you my love when you came to me to protect you from Regina, and again when I restored you to yourself after you were cursed, and yet again when I returned from Neverland. Then I _died_ for you! Tell me, Belle, what else I had to do to prove to you that I love you? Because obviously everything I did wasn't enough. Because when it came right down to it, you believed a magic gauntlet over the evidence of your own heart."

"You chose your power over me, you were going to kill Hook to get the power of the hat," she pointed out.

"Yes, and do you know why I was going to sacrifice that bastard?" he hissed. "Because I was trying the only way I could to free myself of the damned dagger that bound me. Your kiss had failed and nobody else was ever going to love me enough now that Bae was dead! I never considered Henry because he was always too wrapped up with Regina to even notice me, or so I thought. Until we bonded over my son's grave one day. But even then I thought it wasn't enough. So I went down the only path I could see—the desperate path, as I had done so long ago . . .and I didn't care about sacrificing that bloody bastard or the bloody fairies-why? Because none of them had _ever_ given a damn about me! The fairies, led by the oh-so-good Blue, turned their backs on me when I was desperate, when I was going to lose my son, who was my whole life, and the only one who came to help me then was the Dark One! Again, after Bae fell through the portal, I asked Blue to help me-and she refused. She spat in my face, because I was cursed I wasn't worthy of her help-and told me instead a curse was the only way I could ever find my son."

Belle gaped at him. "But—but you created the Dark Curse."

"I did, but she was the one who gave me the idea of it . . .by withholding certain information from me. About more magic beans, about wardrobe trees, about a lot of things. Oh, don't look so shocked, dearie! Your so-called bastion of goodness is as rotten as everyone else. And as judgmental! Just ask Tinkerbell."

"And Hook?"

Rumple snorted. "Oh yes, the glorified pirate become a _hero,"_ he sneered in fury. "Who lied to my son and sold him to Pan as a child, who put him in hell on Neverland for the sake of his hurt pride, and who then denied it to everyone and somehow convinced my son he loved him. Lies! You accuse me of being the one who lies, when he lies everyday about his true motives. He's been a liar since I first met him, when he told me he and his crew had needs and he needed my wife to satisfy them! When he mocked a crippled spinner because he couldn't fight a duel and laughed and called me a coward. Who persecuted a lone beggar and called him crocodile, only to discover the beggar wasn't the helpless old freak he thought—but the Dark One! Oh yes, such a brave man, wasn't he?"

"I didn't know. I thought—we all thought—he changed."

Rumple laughed mockingly. "Oh he changed, all right. Changed his tactics to get what he wanted—Emma, my son's girlfriend! Why did he stop trying to kill me, why give up three hundred years of revenge? Answer that!"

"He said because he felt guilty about Bae dying."

"Funny, because his guilt over Bae being left on Neverland never bothered him a bit. His guilt over losing Milah didn't cause him to realize he was the cause of his own misery, because he challenged the wrong man that day and paid the price. What the hell was different about now?"

"Emma."

"Yes. Because Emma, at first, wasn't fool enough to fall for his charms. So he had to change his tactics and become what she wanted—the hero. Because, like you, the savior has a thing for loving the perfect man—or one she thinks is perfect."

"Emma loved Neal . . ."

"She did . . but not enough. Or else why didn't she save him, dearie? I couldn't, Zelena forbid me. But she could have . . .and didn't. Ask yourself why. I have-so many times in that cell . . .and so many times I've come up with this answer—she didn't love him enough . . .because she loved that no-good pirate more." He looked up and there were tears in his eyes.

"Rumple . . .I'm so sorry . . ." she began.

He shook his head. "So am I. And why the hell couldn't you say that when you first saw me? Why in hell were your first words about that bitch who tortured me and killed Bae?" he cried angrily.

"I don't know. I was upset . . . was afraid you would go and kill her . . ."

"Why? Why the _hell_ did a murderer and a scurvy pirate matter so much more to you than me?! She tortured me, controlled me! Made me her slave! And the moment I got free, her half-sister was there waiting to tell me how I should be _merciful! _How heroes don't kill! When if it had been _her_ son in a pine box, she would have been making that green hag beg for mercy for all eternity and never let her die! At least I killed her quickly!" he raged. "Now I ask you again, why did she matter to you after what she did? Or Hook who had tried multiple times to kill both of us? What the _fuck_ did they ever do for you that you should be sympathetic to them?"

"Because I wanted you to be better!" she shouted back.

"Well, I'm not! Too bad, so sad! I'm not _better_. I'm not perfect. I'm not the hero you always dreamed of. I'm the most imperfect and flawed creature on the face of the earth. How many times must I tell you—_I'm a difficult man to love?" _

She half-shrank from him.

Then his eyes narrowed. "But that's not the whole truth either, is it? Why else did you choose to try and save them?"

"Because . . .I was trying again to be a hero! Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes! I want to hear that you too have flaws, that you, and not just me, have issues!" he challenged.

"I never said I was perfect."

"No, but you tried to be perfect . . .and you tried to make me perfect."

"What's wrong with that, Rumplestiltskin?"

"What's wrong, dearie, is that there is no such thing as perfect. Perfect is an ideal, the unattainable goal, it doesn't exist. Anybody who tells you it does—is lying to you. I know . . .for so long I have tried to be perfect—the perfect son to my papa, the perfect husband to Milah, the perfect father to Bae. And I failed. I failed over and over. Because perfect is impossible. I broke my heart trying to be perfect all over again—for _you_."

She found she was crying at that statement. "Is that what you thought I wanted, Rumple?"

"Didn't you? You wanted me to change. You wanted the beast banished. I kept telling you the truth . . .but you couldn't handle the truth. You said you loved the man . . .but the man was two parts—the cursed one and the uncursed one. And when you ordered me away that night, or whenever you walked away from me when we fought, do you know what you were doing to me?"

Mutely, she shook her head.

"You were telling me without words that you hated imperfect me. That you only wanted the man and not the beast. That like everyone else in my life—my papa, Milah, Cora, Zelena, even my son—you only wanted me when I was "good". When I behaved how you wished. And when I didn't . . .or couldn't because of my curse . . .you cast me aside. You say I always put my power before you—well, dearie, you put perfect before me."

It was then that she realized he was right. She had done exactly as he had said, without even realizing it. "I was wrong. I should have seen what I was doing. But I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn't understand . . .about what you were doing, about your curse, I thought I did, but I only knew bits and pieces. Because you never really told me everything. You hid so much from me, from everyone. I wanted you to trust me, Rumple."

He sighed, some of his initial anger draining away. "I trusted you, Belle, more than I had ever trusted anyone save Bae . . .and even then I couldn't do what you wanted. Because I learned a long time ago there was only one person I could trust—myself. Do you know why?"

She took the handkerchief he handed her and wiped her eyes. "Why?"

"Because every other person I had ever trusted betrayed me. From my papa as a child, who chose eternal youth and magic over me, to my wife who chose another man, to my son, who chose another world over remaining with me, all of them I had trusted, and all of them left me. Then you come along, with your head full of dreams, and ideals in books, with your talk of bravery and hope . . .and you convinced me to trust again . . . and then what happened?" he asked sadly.

"I left you too . . .alone in the dark . . ." she admitted. "Like Henry said."

"I wanted to be what you wished, Belle. I wanted to be what Bae wished. But in the end, I realized something. Cursed as I was . . .or even uncursed . . . .I could only be one way . . .an imperfect human being. And therefore not worth fighting for."

"No! Don't you say that!" she half-shouted, coming up out of her chair.

He gave her a wry smile. "Why? Why did you come back, Belle?"

"I came back, Rumplestiltskin, because I'm your wife. I came back because without you-all of you—I am incomplete, lost, a book of blank pages, an empty heart without a chipped cup. I came back to tell you I was wrong. But most of all I came back because I'm afraid of never being able to feel the way I feel when I'm with you. I _love you_, Rumplestiltskin."

"Do you? For how long?"

"Forever."

Then seeing he still doubted-and with good reason—she came and kissed him.

This kiss, unlike all the others before it, held nothing back, and gave to him all she was, and for the first time ever she kissed him with the kiss of unconditional true love.

He felt the kiss shiver through him, and he quivered from head to toe. Henry's kiss had broken his curse. But Belle's kiss gave him back a thing he had thought forever lost—his self-esteem. And at long last he was at peace with his imperfect self.

When she drew back, her lips inches from his own, she whispered, "I choose _you_, Rumplestiltskin. Now, forever, and always."

"This thing we have, it's never been easy. But then, nothing worth fighting for ever is."

She closed her hands over his. "No. And this time, I will stay. That first time you asked me to get straw for you, I should have asked you to come with me."

"Then the story would be different."

"Yes. Maybe it should have been."

"You can't change the past, dearie. No matter what Emma and Hook think. If I could . . .I would have done so long ago. For better or for worse, we must live with the choices we make. There is no author who can change the ending of our stories, except ourselves."

"Then the book has no author?"

"No, because the author isn't just one person. The author is us. I would have told Regina that had she bothered to ask me, instead of convincing my grandson to spy on me." He sighed again deeply. "Belle, I cannot promise you that I will always be honest with you, that there will be no more secrets between us, because that would be a lie. I have lived three lifetimes, too long to ever be completely honest with anyone, even myself. And frankly, dearie, there are some secrets that never deserve to see the light of day. We all tell ourselves little lies. We all have secrets. They make up who we are. I shall always be a man of secrets . . .a man with hidden darkness . . .flawed and imperfect. I will always have walls up, it's in my nature. Can you accept that?"

She nodded, her smile lighting her whole face. "I can. If you can accept me with my silly hero complex and my imperfect self."

"I can. You know, I hated when I switched the dagger, but my own insecurity prevented me from trusting you . . .because no one had ever resisted the call of the dagger . . .except one person."

"You were right. I didn't," she agreed. "But Henry did."

"He has the Heart of the Truest Believer." Rumple said. "To always believe in the unconditional love that resides in the human heart."

"I was wrong to use the dagger against you . . .wrong to force you to help anyone."

"I was wrong too . . .I thought you would understand . . ."

"I was afraid . . .you weren't the only one . . ."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that . . .I was sure that you had come here to tell me something quite different," he murmured.

" . . .no . . .I realize that it wasn't just you who had problems . . .and that you weren't the cause of all of our problems either, Rumple. I was too. I've been seeing Archie . . ."

"Belle, you needn't confess to me . . ."

"Rumple, please! I was angry and wasn't thinking clearly that night . . .all I could see was that my dreams of what could have been were dust, and it was easier to blame you than to admit to my own mistakes. But now I can, because I realize nothing is worse than not having you with me. I knew that after I lost you the first time, but then . . .I just took it for granted that once we married things would be perfect. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"As am I," he murmured. "We've both made mistakes . . . most of our problems have been communication ones, dearie . . .we were apart so much that when we were together . . . we forgot to really talk to each other, and just jumped to conclusions and assumptions. But now things are different, and we have time to get to know each other again. As real people this time, not as ideals. Both of us are our own person, flawed and imperfect, with our own identities outside of our marriage. I'm not the same person you knew back in the Dark Castle . . .or even before I was resurrected . . .and you've changed too."

"But one thing hasn't changed, Rumple. I still love you."

"And I never stopped loving you."

"Can we start again, Rumple?"

"When I made you that deal, it was forever, dearie. With an infinite number of second chances."

Then he took her hand and walked out into his shop.

Belle smiled at him and thought of one thing she had learned since having this conversation—that true love wasn't about finding the perfect person-it was finding an imperfect person and seeing how he was perfect—just the way he was.


End file.
